


A Haunted Christmas

by Noir_Dix



Series: Dix's Ghost Stories [2]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Absolutely non-canon, An evil little necro, An interesting theory, Blood drinkers, F/M, Fantasy, Knee-walking drunkeness, Other, Plague bringers, Shades of Speshul, Taint-tickling & etc., a bit of shame, xmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-22 18:43:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noir_Dix/pseuds/Noir_Dix
Summary: Tumblr wants Copia drunk & pathetic... What can I say? I was inspired.(I can never make him suffer that much, though...)And, bonus: Made it Xmas time.Here I be:https://the-pomegranate-cassock.tumblr.com





	1. Premature Intoxication

It was a week 'til Christmas. The Clergy was, as always, (or, at least since anyone could remember,) hosting a seasonal gathering.

The affair had grown steadily over the years, until the Third Emeritus's reign... When it devolved into a full-blown orgy, suitably ostentatious to befit the master of ceremonies.

This year, it had been scaled back. Way back. There was still an open bar... but, instead of taking place in the grand entrance hall, it was now in one of the secondary gathering spaces.

The Cardinal had begun the evening with a vodka martini, shaken, & extra dirty. After his third, he demanded that the poor Ghoulette working the bar hand over the bottle of vodka.

Dix watched with concern, from the shadows down by the baseboards. She was not in her usual pristine white guise... seeking to avoid attention, she was instead a silvery gray this evening.

She watched him stagger back to the bar, intent on a second bottle. The Ghoulette attempted to dissuade him, without success.

He then wove his way back to his sad, solitary chair, & resumed drinking straight from the bottle with gusto.

Enough.

She kept carefully to the shadows, & began slowly making her way to him, only to be scooped up by an inquisitive Ghoul halfway there.

"Hey, Cardi-" he asked, peering at her from behind his mask, "Is this one of yours?"

The Cardinal turned irritably, ready to bite the Ghoul's head off, eyes going wide as recognition dawned.

"Sì, sì... Yes, she is mine." he finally managed to blurt out, as the Ghoul dropped her gently into his gloved hands.

"You're welcome, boss." the Ghoul said, before noting the fixation on his furry little friend, & covertly swiping the vodka.

"Blue eyes... Oh, where have you been?" he cooed, before surprising her by kissing her tiny pink nose.

Vodka was supposed to have no smell. He smelled like a distillery.

He stood, unsteadily, & held her to his chest, shakily, heading for a supply closet, to the side.

He pulled a very glamorous ball chain to light the hanging bare light bulb, before setting her on the floor, then standing to bodily block the door.

"Go on." he said, gesturing.

She sat up & looked at him quizzically.

"Oh, shall I turn into a rat? Is that how you want it? I'll do it, you know-" he leaned back against the door & closed his eyes.

As if that was going to accomplish anything.

He was so hard, that if he could still go out in the light, they could use him for a sun-dial.

She sighed & brought the mist.

He opened his eyes, smiling as she stood before him.

"Why the gray, darling?"

"I was trying to keep a low profile." she approached him slowly, unsure.

Sure enough, as soon as she was close, he grabbed her, spun her 'round, & pinned her against the door.

He nudged her legs apart, grinding against her as his hands grasped her hips.

He kissed her inartfully, pulling back to reveal the smudged mess of his blackened upper lip.

He was profoundly drunk. She couldn't recall ever even seeing him so drunk.

"I need you." he slurred.

She just shook her head, taking him by the shoulders & turning him back against the door. She tilted his head, & traced a finger along the artery.

"Nooo..."

"Oh, hush." she admonished him, before sinking her fangs.

The first mouthful of blood nearly floored her. If he still lived as a mortal, he would have had alcohol poisoning.

His hands were everywhere. He was moaning, whimpering, & making enough noise to wake the dead.

"Hush." she scolded him, again.

"I'm gonna come." he announced, with something akin to dread.

She was able to sigh, undo his pants, yank them down, & stand to the side before he spent on the linoleum floor.

She wrapped a hand around him, gently stroking as he shuddered against her. She went back to his neck, & drew out a bit more blood.

When she finally pulled away, she was a little drunk, herself.

He looked at her as he pulled his pants back up.

"Thank you." he said in a small voice.

He looked completely wretched.

"Master," she tried, "what's  happened?"

He just shook his head.

What hadn't happened? But, she needed him to tell her.

"I'm going to change back."

He looked crestfallen.

"Go to your suite, & take me with you."

He cringed a little at 'suite,' but, then looked almost hopeful for the first time that night.

"Sì. I will do as you say." he said, with a little incline of his head.


	2. Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary

A short while later, he slowly made his way through the maze that comprised the church interior.

He had found the burgundy Santa hat that he'd started off in, that evening... Before undertaking his mission to embalm his own liver.

He now clutched the hat to his chest, on the side without the scratchy applique. One could just see a rat's nose poking out.

Once Dix had been able to establish that he seemed to be over the shakes, she kept dozing off & on. The high proof of his blood had made her dreadfully sleepy.

 "...In the night, I am real... In the night, I am real... The moon to the left is a part of my thoughts... And a part of me is me, forever is the wind... In the night, I am real..." he sang, his voice bright, clear, & beautiful, as always.

She made a happy little sound, & nestled against his jacket.

They encountered a Ghoul in the hallway.

He wore the modified cassock & full face mask of the previous incarnation, the Third's minions.

"Cardinal." came the familiar greeting.

The tension rolled off of him in waves, so much so that it roused her instantly.

"Dix, is that you?" the Ghoul asked, & she could make out the pale green eyes behind the mask. "Slumming again?"

The Cardinal bristled.

"Careful, Mary." he warned, even as the other man rubbed her gently between the ears.

Mary snorted inelegantly.

"You think to warn me? After the things you've done?"

He set both her & the hat down on a nearby chair. She began to chitter anxiously when he drew one of his knives.

"And what of the things you've done?" he asked.

"I've done nothing wrong." Mary said confidently, apparently tiring of the ruse & pulling the mask off.

He smiled an evil smile, revealing newly long fangs. The Cardinal looked to his companion, who had backed all the way against the back of the chair, dragging the hat with her in a sad attempt to hide.

"I shouldn't have left you alone, for so long." he told her, before turning his attention back to Mary.

Who stood smirking.

"Did you have to kill them all?"

He gave his head a little shake, as if to clear it.

"I didn't kill any of them."

"Oh, come now. We've all seen the coffins... And then, there was that little episode where you waved Three's head around like a trophy."

The Cardinal winced. He'd also made a show of licking the blood off his gloves, which hadn't been blood at all.

"Go out there, & make them believe. There must be no talk of insurrection." his mother had instructed him.

He had looked out at the assembly. Sisters were wailing; a few of the men were violently ill... And, in the midst of all this, he located Dix in a purloined habit, aghast.

"You know, I've been recalling some things lately, Mary..."

Mary had begun subtly backing away.

"Oh?"

"Yes, young blood. A certain card game, & some uninvited ghouls... Although, one stood out in particular."

"You've got nothing on me, & besides, I have life eternal." Mary sneered.

"I am older. Stronger..." the Cardinal latched onto his thin shoulder, "And, I've got the big knife."

He dragged the blade across his neck, for emphasis.

It wasn't even one of his 'big' knives.

Mary tried, unsuccessfully, to pull away.

"Ah, ah, ah... Don't be a fucking party pooper, now, Mary." he scolded. "I'm curious to see if you can rise yet again... Minus _your_ head."

"You know better than anyone... There's no coming back from that." his neck was bleeding freely.

"Oh, I think Three would know better than I would..." the Cardinal snarled. "Tread lightly, you little shit. You're no _Director."_

Mary's eyes went wide, & he stumbled backward. The Cardinal had pushed him, & now stood licking the blood from his knife.

"Imposter!" Mary managed to declare, even as he put more distance between them.

He made a little moue of distaste.

"Pick up your mask & go, you little ingrate. I should have just left you at the crossroads, all those years ago."

He turned his attention to the chair, & Dix again cowered behind the Santa hat as he  approached.

"Darling, you know that I can never stay mad at you." he admonished her, scooping both her & the hat up to hold against his chest, again. "I just wish that you had me bite him. He's so weak, it's pitiful."

Before long, he started to hum, & she dozed again, lulled by the rumble. 


	3. Happy Ending

She awoke to him placing her gently on the bed in the master suite. The mattress was bare; there were no linens. Drapes still hung... but, they had been pushed back as far as possible & were Three's dark purple.

There were cardboard moving boxes everywhere. He rummaged around in the top of one, producing a soft black lump & tossing it in the general direction of the bed.

She took the hint, & brought the mist.

He busied himself around the room, turning on the fireplace & changing his clothes. He sang little bits of 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen'.

She snagged the worn T-shirt, which read, 'Repugnant: Total Death Metal' & pulled it on as he tied the drawstring of his burgundy satin pajama pants.

"Christmas music?" she asked.

"Not typical. It's got Satan."

He headed for the light switch, & turned to look at her. She turned on the small bedside lamp, knowing that none of the power players in this cathedral could ever be in total darkness.

He came to sit on the side of the bed, slumping & looking weary.

She pulled her knees up & wrapped her arms around them.

"You didn't kill them?" she asked.

"I didn't kill them." he confirmed.

"What about the relics?"

"Mannequins."

"Are you fucking serious?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Do you mind if I lay down?" he asked.

"Of course not. Why would I?"

"I think my liver is dying."

"You can't kill what's already dead."

"Well, I beg to differ." he groaned, curling up on his side.

"What about the head?"

"Not real."

"You licked blood off of it."

"Again, not real."

"Pourquoi?"

"There must be no talk of insurrection." he said, trying to approximate Imperator's voice.

"Oh."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Do I need to bite you again?" she asked.

"I don't think I would survive it." he said, looking haggard.

"Where are they?"

"Who?"

"The entire Emeritus line, save for the old bag of bones..."

"I haven't the foggiest goddamn idea." he frowned. "I wonder if Mary knows. The little shit seems to be party to everything."

"Baby," he gave her an odd look at the foreign endearment, "you're gonna have to let me bite you."

"Nooo..." he whined, for the second time that night, as she stretched out beside him. She leaned on an elbow, & found the faint marks from earlier.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, as she sank her teeth.

"Mmm?"

"I'm sorry for forsaking you."

"Mmm."

"Grant me absolution, woman... before you kill me." he hooked her leg over his hip.

His ever-present bulge had returned.

"You're not dying, if you're able to do that." she informed him, before he pressed her back against the mattress.

He spread her legs slightly, & began kissing the inside of her thigh.

She sighed.

He looked up at her, inquiringly.

"I'm sorry, too."

He waited.

"I should never have brought Mary over."

"Oh, that." he was looking longingly at her lady parts. "I'd been debating it for decades."

She gasped when he finally picked a spot, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"His-" another gasp, as his fingers joined the party, "His blood is bitter."

He tortured her for a bit, before pulling back. His fingers kept up their wicked endeavors.

"It's gotten worse."

"It's like poison." she moaned, desperately arching, seeking to deepen the contact.

He considered this.

She met his gaze directly.

"I kept him weak..."

His eyes widened.

"On purpose."

"Witch!" he exclaimed, smiling delightedly.

He chuckled over that for a good bit.

"Now, would you please fuck me?" she asked with more than a little exasperation.

He shook his head sadly.

"I said please..."

"My darling," he began, "I was so soused, that you made me squirt just by biting my neck. I figure I owe you at least a couple of orgasms, before I'll even consider fucking you properly."

She did not appreciate his logic.

She pushed him onto his back, & pulled the little bow of his drawstring.

She pinched a little brown nipple, before attacking it with her tongue. He squirmed & his cock twitched noticeably under the satin.

She raked her nails down his soft, white belly, before hooking her fingertips under his waistband.

He grabbed her hand, & pressed it over his bulge. A suspicious damp spot had already appeared.

"Hips up." she commanded, tugging the pants down when he complied.

"Be gentle with me, succubus..." he said, watching with a heavy-lidded gaze, "I'm still all a-tingle from earlier."

She wrapped her hand around him, sliding down to cradle his balls, before reaching to tickle that no-man's-land bit of skin.

He squirmed some more, hands clenching compulsively on the mattress fabric.

She pulled her hand back up to the head of his cock, where she smudged his burgeoning bead of pre-cum with her thumb.

He gasped & thrust lightly against her hand.

His head & balls were blushing a pretty pink, which always made her smile. She licked her lips without thinking.

His eyes widened.

"If you even so much as  _think_ about that, it's all over." he admonished her, pulling her astride him.

He sat up.

"Are you ready?" he growled, nipping her earlobe.

"I've been ready." she quipped, guiding him into her.

"That's my girl." he sighed contentedly, as she sank until she was fully impaled on him.

He could be so corny.

He pulled the T-shirt off over  her head.

"I've missed you too much, to not get the full show."

He nipped at her neck. He bit her shoulders. He teased her tits ruthlessly.

She rode him hard.

He spent half the time sitting up, tormenting her, & the other half leaning back & watching, offering a well-placed thrust where appropriate.

Needless to say, neither of them lasted too terribly long.

She felt the tension building, bit her lip & closed her eyes.

"Don't do that."

She knew just what he was going to say.

"The lip-biting. You know that fucking drives me crazy ..."

"Right there... _Right. There. Ohh-"_

He sat up, grasped her hips, & tried to finish guiding her as her rhythm went completely erratic.

"Fucking hell. I'm going to die."

She laughed breathlessly.

"Damn you, woman. Laughing even as you kill me." he groaned, wrapping himself around her completely.

***

"Why no bed covers?" she asked, finally.

"This is about the longest I've been in here, to be honest."

"Don't you have anything in your boxes?"

"Probably."

"Aren't you cold?"

He just hitched a shoulder.

She removed herself from him.

"Well, now I am." he grumbled.

She put the T-shirt back on.

"I'm going to look."

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I make these characters talk entirely too goddamn much. 😅


End file.
